


Cinnamon Girl

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 1970s, 1980s, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Ben Solo is Not Nice, Ben is an adult, Come Eating, Dark, Darkfic, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Grooming, Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Religion, Rey is 14, Roman Catholicism, Southern USA, Teacher Ben Solo, Teacher-Student Relationship, Twisting/Misuse of Religion, Victim Blaming, church, sunday school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ben decides that Rey is ready for an extra lesson before her confirmation.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 93
Collections: Anonymous





	Cinnamon Girl

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty dark, just a fair warning

Rey sat at her desk, feet crossed beneath the wooden chair, in her pink gingham dress with the tight waist and overturned collar where the buttons met. She wore her favourite embellished leather kitten heels that Mama had given her for her fourteenth birthday, saying that she was a real lady now. The memory made her heart fill with pride as she clicked her heels on the floor, listening to Mr. Ben speak up at the blackboard.

Ben Solo was a fine guy. He read the bible to them every Sunday in their lessons and they would make notes to be able to get confirmed in May. He was never seen without his regular blue plaid dress shirt and those black, ironed slacks that ran down to the polished shoes on his feet. He had to pay a lot of money for that.

The smell of April was outside, like petrichor in the morning hours, and there were puddles sinking down in the grass, still yellow and recovering from the frosty winter months. But Rey and the other teenagers didn’t need their jackets any longer, and could walk around in just their regular clothes, hugging their booklets and pencils to their chests.

Everyone always brought extra pencils and the people who didn’t were constantly leaning back and asking for more, because it was well known that all of the sharpeners that hung from the wall worked like shit. Mama told her to not use words like that and to speak “like a lady,” but she just thought them now, so what was so wrong with that?

Rey was trying her best to be a lady. When May came round, she’d be a _real_ member of the church and she’d pass the money onto the volunteers, not her mother, and, on that fateful day, Ben would wrap the cross around her neck before the bishop blessed her with holy oil upon her forehead.

Mama had never gotten her confirmation, had grown up way north in a large city where they didn’t have time for confirmations and she was working a part time job at the mall at the age of fourteen. She’d gone to church, but it wasn’t the same, and she’d wanted different for Rey, who she’d had as only a teenager. The boy had run off, so Mama had raised her as a single mother.

Rey had been going to church school every Sunday morning since she was seven years old, just a little girl wearing her overalls with her hair tied up in two pigtails. Now, she wore it down, like the girls her age at school, half up and half down like was the style. Everyone always said she looked pretty and not like a kid no more, so that was good enough reason to continue. In high school, one could never be too sure what was and wasn’t popular, so she just had to trust her gut and be as confident as can be.

In fact, just last week, a farmer’s boy called Poe Dameron had come up to her for help in math class, and they’d touched hands. _Touched hands!_ It was like they were adults - and then he had leant in and whispered, “What a pretty dress you’ve got on, darling,” like some romancer in one of Mama’s lady stories that she hid under the couch seats. She wasn’t supposed to have read those, but she did anyway, careful enough to have them back by midnight, when she’d climb under her covers.

Poe was sitting on the other side of the classroom right that moment, bouncing his leg up and down and staring right at her with a little smile in the corner of his mouth. 

She bit down on her pen, watching him. Boys liked to see girls’ lips, that’s what Rose had told her one day when they were out shopping together at the supermarket and passed by the cosmetics section, where old women were puckering their lips and trying out the samples.

Rose Tico was also in the room, sitting right behind Rey and focusing her eyes on Mr. Ben, attentive as ever in her turquoise dress and neutral stockings with her hair coming down in fringy bangs across her forehead. She only had eyes for Finn, a sweet boy with dark hair and a kind smile who always took the bus with her every Monday after school, even though he attended the boys’ academy across from her and Rey’s commonplace high school.

“Paying attention, Miss Niima?” Mr. Ben called out, lifting his chalk off of the board to look back at her with a strict but not unkind glare.

“Sorry, sir,” she murmured, cheeks flushing with heat as Poe looked down to his blank notebook to start taking notes

“That’s alright,” he soothed, looking back at his board, where he was drawing a circle and splitting it up into fractions after marking it with the names of the months of the year. “We’re learning about the seasons of the church today, also called the liturgical seasons.”

Rey already knew them all from doing extra reading: Advent, Christmas, Ordinary Time, Lent, and Easter. 

“What comes after Lent?” he asked unexpectantly, pointing at Rose with an outurned index finger, showing off the handsome Rolex watch on his wrist.

“E-Easter,” she stuttered with a small smile, toying with the Queen Anne neckline of her dress absentmindedly. Hidden underneath her notebook was her study notes for a biology unit that she had just the following morning, so she kept flipping back and forth, trying to memorize what she could. 

“Yes!” He grinned back at her, turning to his board. “Easter was just a while ago, wasn’t it?” 

The students nodded, boys with their arms crossed over their chest and girls with their hands in their lap or holding their pencils, poised above their notebook.

Their desks faced a cross that was nailed to the wall above the door, crafted of polished oak wood with a figure of Jesus hanging on it, hair long and curly.

Ben’s hair was pretty curly, too, but more so wavy, reaching down to below his chin, where the collar of his handsome shirt was. 

In church before their classes at 10:00am, he would always stand on the stage and lead the readings from the bible, and then he’d be the one who would hand out the body of Christ.

Mama always wore her best clothes to church, a feminine red button-up top with a tartan skirt was pretty, when paired with her work heels, even though they were run-down. Their family was poor, but it was really the effort and dedication that counted, no matter about young Bazine with her pearls or Kaydel’s mother with her big diamond ring all in everyone’s faces. 

It was what was found _within_ that counted, as Rey had learnt from a young age.

Her hands fiddled with her dress’s buttons as she opened up her pocket bible to read the final prayers along with Mr. Ben. She was terrible at memorizing, so she had written them out with her favourite pen with the pink ink on the back cover.

“Go on and spread the word of the Lord!” he called out to the class, waving and smiling as they filed out of the door, some pausing to wave back at him and others hurrying out as if the room were on fire. His eyes wavered over to Rey, who was lifting up her books. “I want to speak with you, Rey.”

She froze up. Speak to… _her_? What had she done wrong?

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, placing her belongings back down on the surface of the table again, scratched and engraved with the initials of students over the years and the metal legs all rusted.

Ben watched as the last student left - Rose, eyeing them with curiosity - and then, as the door shut with a bang, smiled at Rey. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. Come here.”

_Oh?_

She nodded, smiling, wondering what on Earth it could be, then. As she gracefully strode over to him, heels clicking on the floor, the silver cross around her neck bounced lightly on her chest.

“How are you, sweetheart?” His tone has changed now, to a softer one that one night even call a coo. His eyes were travelling her body.

“I’m good. How are you, Mr. Ben?” As she continued to smile, dimples formed on her cheeks, in the same area where freckles scattered across her tanned skin. She loved the sun, too, just laying on the grass as the sprinkler squirted around water in her bikini. It wasn’t quite the weather for that yet, though.

“Very well.” He placed a hand on her waist, tracing his hand down to the hem of her dress, where the fabric was lacey and patterned. “Is your mother waiting for you?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.” There was curiosity in her eyes as she watched him fiddle with her dress.

They were standing mere centimetres away from each other, and the privacy blinds had been pulled over the only two windows in the room; the one on the door and the one by the entrance. The lighting was bright enough to work in, and the weather had been cloudy and miserable today, so there was no point in opening the other window. It always stayed shut, so, sometimes, Rey wondered if it had been broken, but it was merely useless, as Ben said.

He made a small noise of recognition, lifting up her skirt a bit, higher up on her lower thighs, just above her kneecap. 

“I’m not supposed to lift my skirt up for boys,” she got out quickly, placing her own hands on the skirt to hold it down. 

He looked down at her, stern but still smiling in a weird, satisfied way. But he was a good guy, a _good man_ , always had been. She could trust him. “I’m not just any boy, Rey, and neither is God.”

“Oh, of course not, I-”

He cut her off, running a hand along her exposed arm. “You are so much smarter, so much more mature, than those other kids. Don’t you want to be a true Catholic, a _lady?_ ”

She felt pride at his words, and rose up to her full height. “Yes, of course! That’s why I’ve been going here for so long, and then I practice my prayers each night, too!”

He swiftly twisted around and raised his worn-out eraser to haphazardly wipe all of the chalk off his blackboard before grabbing Rey’s arm and lightly tugging her so that she stood with her back to it.

She obeyed and finished the motion, as always, ever the one to please. 

Her hazel eyes were bright as she stared up at him.

“How can you say that you know God without this, Rey?” He eased her hands up so that she was holding up her skirt to her belly button’s height, exposing her panties. They were plain and crafted of a white cotton fabric, with a pretty pink bow of silk on the waistband. Careful to not scare her, he took his two hands to the waistband, sinking his thumbs within to lower it down, crouching down onto his knees and tugging it to her ankles, stretching out the elastic a bit. He looked up at her and, still smiling, rubbed a hand on her left ankle before straightening up again

“I don’t know,” she muttered, confused. What was he doing?

He pressed the tips of his fingers to the hairs that were down there, a dark, chestnut brown that curled out at the ends from their length, lightly stroking them. “I prayed to God last night, and he told me that it was time, but, Rey, can you promise me one thing, honey?”

She nodded, smiling absently, as he moved his fingers further back to where her skin was a rosey pink colour in between the folds.

“This has to be a secret, and then you’ll go to church like a big girl for the rest of your life, and then heaven.”

Ben started rubbing her in the front area, and she felt a strange feeling in her tummy, almost like a flutter.

“Well, that sounds nice,” she said genuinely. “And t-this feels good too.” The words came out in a stutter as a shiver ran through her, causing her to drop her skirt down on his wrist and gasp lightly. Why was she making these noises? She’d never felt like this before. 

But Ben had said that this was all she needed to be a lady, so he must be right, so she must be good. She’d wake up the next morning feeling like a new woman, it sounded like, and maybe she’d see God in a vision, like those saints.

“See, God always has good intentions when he creates us and guides us,” he cooed to her, moving aside her folds to press a finger inside, but there was something blocking him from going further. Smirking, he went back to his gentle rubbing, relishing in the way that she was forming slick down there, coating his fingers, hidden by her skirt now. “He wants you to feel good, and so do I.”

Rey held in a whine when he pulled his fingers away, but noticed that they were wet with something. It looked white and creamy, and he pressed it to her soft lips, but she hesitated.

“This is God’s gift, Rey. If you’re going to be a lady, you have to accept it. You’ve been so good. God would be so proud.”

Smiling again, proud of herself too, she opened her mouth for him to stick his finger in, and then shut it, licking the substance. It tasted strange, and she wondered why any of God’s gifts would taste anything but amazing, but then she remembered baked beans, and, suddenly, it tasted so much better as she swallowed, looking up at him for praise.

His dark eyes were lit up as he ran a clean hand over her cheek. “My good girl. You’re going to make a wonderful lady, aren’t you, and then a wonderful mother later on.”

She nodded quickly, leaning into his touch, reaching down and pulling up her panties swiftly as if nothing had ever happened.

Ben leant over to his desk and pulled out his favourite sheet of paper. It had all of the main prayers written out on it. “Shall we say a prayer?”

“Yes, sir.”

They prayed in the name of being thankful, of God’s creations on Earth, and in hope of a wonderful future. It seemed to go on and on.

The telltale sign of Mama being there to pick her up was a unique sequence of three honks on the car horn. Why hadn’t she heard it yet?

Or maybe she had, and had just not been paying attention. 

“I think I should go,” Rey murmured, backing away and striding over to her desk. Why did she feel dirty now?

“Yes,” he agreed, wiping a hand on his thigh subconsciously.

She lifted up her papers and books, organizing them into a small stack, and began to walk to the door.

But Ben rushed over and blocked her way with a smile. “How do you feel?”

Looking down, she decided it was best to be honest. “Mr. Ben, I liked that a lot. But I don’t feel good. I don’t feel like a good girl like you said.”

“Oh, honey…” Ben kissed her on her lips then, two hands holding up her face to look at him. No one had ever kissed her like that. “You’re just lying to yourself. You are more ready than ever for your confirmation now, and you know it.”

Rey smiled at his touch, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He was right. She was just overthinking things.

**Author's Note:**

> rude comments will be deleted, but please do leave a comment and say what you thought! 🥺💖


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